


Turning the Tables

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (Zenos' Particularly Weird Brand of Fluff), Anal Sex, Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Begging, Biting, Black Mage Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Garlean Sex Toys, Inappropriate Use Of Black Magic (Final Fantasy XIV), Kinky, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Strap-Ons, Swordplay, Temperature Play, Trans Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18011801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: One night after the liberation of Doma, the Warrior of Light sneaks away to meet a certain crown prince to engage in carnal delights.





	Turning the Tables

**Author's Note:**

> I return with more porn! And I have absolutely nothing else to say in this author's note, aside from thanking Oneironym for once again helping me with this. Please never stop helping me with fics. You have the best ideas.

The thick stone walls of the Ala Mhigan royal palace did an excellent job at keeping out the desert heat, Sorkhatu thought as the Garlean soldier escorted him through empty corridors. Where the outside had been sweltering in the heat of a summer evening, the air inside was pleasantly cool. 

It had come as a surprise that he had been expected; he had been planning to sneak in using the tricks Yugiri had taught him (and how she would rage if she knew this was what he'd considered using them for), but ere he could even get close a soldier had approached him, unarmed and with hands held high. Apparently, _Lord_ Zenos had anticipated his arrival. 

It may have made things easier, but the thought was nonetheless uncomfortable… and yet also strangely exciting. 

While the palace was undoubtedly of Ala Mhigan architecture, and not simply because it was made of stone instead of the steel Garleans so favoured, the fact that it had not been in Ala Mhigan hands for a long time was equally apparent. Magitek light giving off a gentle light lined the walls, and much of the furniture and doors had been replaced with Garlean equivalents. If not completely made out of metal they at least made prominent use of it, and they were fashioned in a very different style: sparse, unadorned and functional. 

Finally, the soldier stopped next to a large door. At first glance, it hardly looked any different from any of the other ones they had passed along the way, but closer examination revealed that it was reinforced with pure cermet, a luxury that had not been expended elsewhere in the palace. This was it, then.

Zenos yae Galvus was waiting in that room. Too late to back out now, even if he had wanted to. 

The soldier opened the door and, to Sorkhatu's surprise, entered before him. As the door clicked shut, he saluted with a stiff, jerky movement. “Sorkhatu Buduga, the Warrior of Light!“

And there he stood with his back to them, peering out of a spacious window, the man who ruled Ala Mhigo with an iron fist. Zenos yae Galvus. His hair, illuminated by the setting sun, spilled freely over his back, which was covered in what looked to be a red velvet robe rather than the usual armor. Without it, he looked rather more slender than Sorkhatu had expected, but he would not make the mistake of underestimating him. 

The scar Sorkhatu had retained from their first encounter itched.

“I thought it might come to this,“ Zenos said. His voice sent a shiver down Sorkhatu's back. “I see my _envoy_ has successfully intercepted you. I trust nobody witnessed you on your way?

“No, my lord!“ the soldier called out. “I have escorted the Warrior of Light according to your instructions. We have not met anyone on the way.“ 

Zenos did not reply as he reached out to the revolving scabbard propped up on the floor next to him. The sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath was unnaturally loud in the room, and yet it wasn't enough to drown out the soldier's quiet whimpering.

The telltale noise of clanking armor that Sorkhatu had learned to associate with Zenos moving was absent when he walked towards them, and a quick peek between the flaps of his gown confirmed that he wore plain black boots rather than sollerets for once. What had not changed, however, was the nigh agonisingly slow pace he took. There were Lalafells who walked faster than him.

“Oh, just let him go,“ Sorkhatu said.

Zenos stopped, and both he and the soldier turned towards him. The former merely quirked an eyebrow, while the latter's face was a mixture of terror and confusion.

“Far be it for me to worry about what you do to your own men, as I would otherwise have to face them on the battlefield instead, but I do so hate wastefulness.“ Sorkhatu looked up at Zenos. “And you need not attempt to impress me with wanton slaughter either. You've already done that.“ 

“He will talk of your presence here.“

“What of it? The Alliance won't heed baseless rumours coming from the enemy, and as for you… I did not take you for the type to care what others say about him. Does the thought that your dubordinates may think less of you bother you?“ Out of the corner of his eye, Sorkhatu saw the soldier's mouth fall open. 'Twas likely that nobody with good sense dared to speak to Zenos in this manner.

Good sense, of course, was something his fellow Scions had long since insisted he lacked completely. This particular venture seemed to confirm that assessment. 

“Such a tender-hearted request.“ Despite his mocking tone, Zenos did not approach any further. “Have you grown soft since we met in Doma, hero?“ 

“Hardly,“ Sorkhatu replied, “but I loathe pointless bloodshed. 'Tis no challenge to slaughter a man shaking to his core. Let him go.“ 

There was a pause as Zenos considered his words, and then finally looked at the soldier, who seemed to be too terrified to even beg for his life. “You may leave. Breathe a word of this, and you will come to regret being shown mercy.“

The solder bolted out of the room as if all the hounds of the seventh hell were hot on his heels. The heavy cermet door slammed shut after him. They were alone now, and with the soldier gone, Zenos' attention was solely on Sorkhatu. 

“I have the upper hand here. You must realise that you would not be able to use your magicks ere I cut your head off. And yet you defy me like this?“ Zenos raised the sword until the tip hovered just under Sorkhatu's chin. “Whence does such bravery come, I wonder...“ 

“I have stood against the high and mighty, beaten the odds a thousand thousand times. You may tower above them all still, and I know fully well I only stand here because you have allowed me to, but in the end, you are but a man—and I fear no man, nor woman, nor anyone else.“ Sorkhatu ran a finger across the blade's flat side. “If I am to die here today, then so be it.“ 

Zenos peered at him for an uncomfortably long moment, face impassive and impossible to read, before his lips quirked into a smile. “A good answer, hero. Come. Let us begin.“ 

He beckoned for Sorkhatu to follow him as he carelessly dropped the sword on the floor and retrieved his scarbbard, and then led him to the canopied bed occupying an entire corner of the room. The curtains, made of the same lush red velvet as Zenos' robes, were closed, revealing nothing of what was inside.

“How did you know I would come?“ Sorkhatu asked. 

Zenos put the scabbard down in arm's reach of the bed and swiftly undid the delicate metal buttons holding his robe closed. “I've seen the way you looked at me when we fought in Doma. You share the same hunger I feel, and you will not let such petty things as loyalty to those beneath you deter you from chasing it. And tonight, I intend to satisfy it, alongside my own...“

Sorkhatu watched every movement with rapt attention. Hands far more graceful than they had any right to be efficiently opened the robe, and then a singular shrug caused it to slide off his shoulders and fall to a hear at his feet, revealing a body beyond perfection. Muscles every bit as chiselled as the most finely crafted sculptures, unblemished fair skin, coupled with his golden hair and ceruleum vlue eyes and a manhood that did not need to hide compared to even the largest of Auri men… Nhaama preserve, Sorkhatu hardly went up to the man's hips. 

While Zenos busied himself with his boots, Sorkhatu pulled at his own black mage attire with clumsy hands. The robe came off first and was discarded behind him, before he bent down to unlace his own boots and then chuck both them and his pants before the ground with no care. His smallclothes, already damp to the touch, soon followed. The two-handed staff, however, he carefully placed closer to the wall. It was a finely made piece, and it would not do for it to be damaged. 

Zenos' scrutinising gaze never left him, never stopped taking in every inch, every scar that he had accumulated over the years of adventuring. 'Twas likely he would leave this place bearing yet another one. The thought was disturbingly arousing. 

Zenos reached out and pulled the canopy partially open, but before Sorkhatu could make out what the bed itself looked like, he covered the distance between them in a single step where Sorkhatu would have needed three and effortlessly tossed him through the opening, as if he were nothing more than a stuffed animal. Sorkhatu bounced off of soft silken sheets and landed on his back. A moment later, a dip in the mattress told him Zenos had joined him. He turned his head and saw him tap on a magitek device hanging from one of the bed posts. Gentle neutral light filled the canopy, which Sorkhatu now realised was a lush nest of pillows and blankets. 

“I haven't touched you, and yet you already drip on my sheets.“ Zenos looked at the scaled mound between his legs. “Does my mere presence affect you so?“ 

Truthfully, yes, it did. The danger inherent to being close to Zenos, coupled with the knowledge of what was about to happen, was nothing short of thrillling. It was this feeling that had prompted him to make excuses to the resistance to slip away and sneak to the palace to meet with their—his—worst enemy. He craved it. _Needed_ it. 

When Zenos reached down between Sorkhatu's legs, he spread them wider to allow for better access. Callused fingers trailed across hard black scales surrounding a soft pliant hole, topped off by three ilms worth of sensitive flesh protruding further up. A thumb brushed against it and Sorkhatu shuddered, then choked back a whine when Zenos withdrew. 

The same hand that had just finished exploring him grabbed a fistful of hair and dragged him closer to Zenos, who wrapped an arm around his hips, lifted him up and pulled him into a domineering kiss. There was far more passion to the tongue sliding into his mouth than Sorkhatu would have expected, and a veritable fire burned in the blue eyes that were now so close to his face. Sorkhatu did not avert his gaze as he reached around and ran his fingers through that luscious golden hair. When he reached the tips, he moved back up to the nave of his neck to start over. Zenos, in turn, held him in a tight embrace that he would not have been able to escape from even if he'd tried. 

Eventually they separated, and Zenos unceremoniously dumped him back on the pillow. Sorkhatu took a deep breath.

“I did not think you so eager for this, truth be told.“ 

“And you would have been correct,“ Zenos said as he laid down next to him, “had you been anyone else. The pleasures of the flesh never meant much to me. You, however… I would share this with you.“

“Why, I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, even though all I've managed was singing your hair a little.“ Amidst the struggle, a well-aimed spell, or perhaps a lucky fluke, had broken off one of the prominent horns on Zenos' helmet. Though he had dodged most of the spell, one side of his face had gotten caught up in it; something of which no trace remained now. It had saved Sorkhatu's life, which made up for the ignominy of having been soundly beaten a second time. 

“We will meet on the battlefield again, where you may yet prove yourself worthy prey. Or perhaps… you would rather do it here and now?“ The corners of Zenos' mouth quirked upwards in what could only be described as a feral smile. 'Twas a beautiful sight. Beautiful and exhilarating. 

“You realise that you won't have a bedroom afterwards anymore if I do, right?“ 

“I have spares.“

“So wasteful,“ Sorkhatu mused. Such a luxurious chamber this was—would that he could bring these sheets with him, they felt wonderful—and Zenos would just consign it to the destruction a black mage could wreak, to be consumed by fire and ice and lightning?

“I would have met with you on the battlefield for this, had I been sure that there would have been no interruptions. None of this is important to me...“ The smile dribbled off of Zenos' face, and the boredom that was so typical for him replaced it. 

Sorkhatu reached out with flames dancing across his fingers and traced them across one of the fluffy pillows before letting them ghost just off Zenos' upper arm. He would feel the heat at this distance, even if they would not burn him just yet. Light scorch marks remained on the pillowcase, ruining it.

The look of ennui vanished as fast as it had come, and the predatory smile returned. With a glint in his eyes, Zenos spoke, “You would try to fell me with fire, beast? Turn the tables on your hunter?“ 

“If you would be my hunter,“ Sorkhatu whispered, “then prove yourself to me.“ He gently brushed a fiery finger over Zenos' arm and was rewarded with a hissed groan that only grew in intensity when he switched polarity to umbral ice and encased the mild burn in the thinnest layer of ice he could manage.

And then suddenly Zenos was on top of him, pressing his ice-encased hand down on the bed and holding him in place with the sheer weight of his massive body. Lips traced over the black scales lining his throat and then, when Zenos had found a patch of soft skin, Sorkhatu felt teeth digging into his flesh, harsher and deeper than anyone else ever had. He raised his free hand and summoned the flames, but before he could get them anywhere near Zenos, this hand, too, was pinned down on a pillow, where he hastily extinguished the fire again. He did not want to burn the bed… just yet. 

Now, with both of his wrists caught in Zenos' iron vice grip and lying stark naked under him while he had his teeth at his throat, the reality of how much he was at Zenos' mercy caught up with him. Even on the battlefield they weren't equals, not yet. Here, so close to him, he had no hopes of ever competing with his raw strength and speed. In coming here, he had surrendered himself to Zenos wholly, and he did not think Zenos would let up even if he asked. 

Not that he had any desire to do so. That wondrous, exciting thrill of fear only served to heighten his arousal, and he wanted to feel more, more, _more_ of those teeth everywhere. Almost without meaning to, he spread his legs so that Zenos' body would rest between them rather than on top. 

“Is it on the hunter to devour his prey?“ he gasped as he craned his head to allow Zenos better access. Such wonderful pain digging deep into his neck…

With one final powerful bite, Zenos withdrew. Blood glistened on his lips under the soft magitek light, and Sorkhatu raised himself up as much as Zenos' grip allowed to kiss him. Zenos effortlessly pushed him down again without ever breaking the kiss and lay on top of him. He'd shifted enough of his weight on his arms to avoid crushing his smaller frame completely, but the burden still left Sorkhatu breathless and desperate to find something to grind himself against. 

Zenos' hands soon left his wrists and began exploring the rest of his body, with harsh fingers groping at exposed flesh and prodding at scales. Sorkhatu used his newfound freedom to torment Zenos with his magic again. He didn't take it far enough to cause actual injuries, but judging by the hisses and groans Zenos let slip as he dragged hot and cold hands over his back, and by how feverish his kisses were, he loved it. 

One of Zenos' hands brushed over the scales lining his crotch, and then a finger pushed deep inside of him. Sorkhatu pushed back until it was buried all the way to the knuckle and, when Zenos released his lips again, said: “Come now, I'm built to take more than that. At least add a second one.“ 

“As you wish.“ 

Zenos pulled his finger out enough to slip in another one, adding girth to length. Sorkhatu let his arms fall back on the bed and moaned softly. 'Twas but a taste of what was to come, but already it felt great. He closed his eyes and listened to the wet noises the fingers made as they moved in and out of him. 

Then they pulled out completely and Zenos lifted off him, flipped him around and buried his face between his legs. Sorkhatu gasped into his abs when his tongue wormed its way into him. It wasn't as long or thick as the fingers had been, but the flexibility, and the knowledge that Zenos was tasting him… 

He pushed himself against Zenos' face and simultaneously reached backwards to grasp his length, now fully erect and unfortunately not in reach of his own mouth. He gripped it tightly and stroked it hard and fast, in sync with the movements of Zenos' tongue. Then, on a whim, he let his hand grow hot and then very abruptly cold again, and was rewarded with Zenos bucking so hard into his hand that he thought he might get crushed under him. 

“Such delicious torment,“ Zenos groaned after pulling his tongue free. “Allow me to repay the favour...“ 

The telltale sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard made Sorkhatu pause. Zenos used the chance to free himself from his grasp and sit up. Sorkhatu looked up at him and smiled at his obvious arousal, his flushed skin and that tiny bead of fluid dripping from his length… He pushed himself up, bent over and caught it with his tongue, but before he could do anything else, Zenos grabbed one of his horns and pulled him back up. 

“You will continue what you've been doing.“

“And you, what will you do?“ Sorkhatu asked as he ran a cold hand down Zenos' chest. Instead of answering, Zenos brought his blade down to his throat and held it steady even as Sorkhatu resumed his stroking. 

They held eye contact for what felt like an eternity until Zenos laughed. “So fearless, so… insolent you are, staring at me like this when your life is in my hands.“ 

“You would not kill me like this, naked and defenseless.“

The sword pressed against his skin a little harder as Zenos reached out and pulled his head back by his hair. “I wonder. Are your scales hard enough to withstand cuts?“ 

Sorkhatu closed his eyes and didn't answer. Zenos could find that out on his own. He suspected both of them would enjoy the process. 

The first cut was shallow, across one of the fleshy parts of his neck. Warm lips quickly replaced the cold touch of steel when Zenos lapped up what little blood dribbled from a wound that small. A second, deeper cut on the other side of his neck received the same treatment. With a pleased hum, Sorkhatu removed one of his hands from Zenos and slipped it between his own legs. Wetness coated his fingers when they slipped inside.

In response, Zenos yanked his head back so harshly that he thought he felt his neck creak. “Have I not made clear that you are to continue pleasuring me?“

“And what if I don't?“ Sorkhatu removed his other hand as well. “What if I'd much rather tend to my own pleasure?“ 

The only reply he received was the sound of a sword being pushed back into its sheath. Of course Zenos would take his toys and go home when he didn't get his way. The price of playing with a spoiled royal… 

...and yet, Sorkhatu couldn't deny that he enjoyed being treated like this. Forced to attend to someone else's needs while forgoing his own—frankly, it served to heighten his own pleasure as well. 

And so he grasped Zenos tightly again and continued stroking, alternating between hot and cold. Zenos, in turn, retrieved his blade and set it against his shoulder—the scaly part. So he did mean to put it to the test. Sorkhatu stiffened and pushed his shoulder against the edge. Predictably, that wasn't enough to cut yet. 

“Quite durable, these scales,“ Zenos said, and oh, being massaged like this certainly had an effect on him. The husky tone his voice had taken on was quite delectable. Slowly but surely he increased the force with which he was pressing down until it made Sorkhatu's shoulder ache, and then, with a crack, the scales gave way and the blade cut into the flesh beneath. 

Sorkhatu gasped. When Zenos wrenched the sword free, he raised a hand up to his shoulder, only to find it encased in an iron grip and pulled back to where it had been. 

“'Tis not a wound you will bleed out from. I have more control than that.“

“So I hear,“ Sorkhatu muttered. It was true; a quick glance to the side confirmed that the injury wasn't as deep as he had thought. Apparently Zenos had taken care not to apply enough force to cause serious harm. How odd, for someone like him to pay attention to his wellbeing.

Then again, if he cut his arm off, that would put an end to his stroking very quickly. How compelling an argument for him to keep pleasuring Zenos. And so he continued with a firm grasp, only to find himself pushed onto his back. 'Twas plain that Zenos wasn't using any real force, but even so he would not have been able to resist it. 

“This is what you came here for, is it not?“ Zenos nudged his legs apart and grabbed ahold of his left thigh. “This—union of flesh...“ 

Union of flesh?

He couldn't help it. The phrase was entirely too ridiculous not to burst out into laughter, and the absurdity of this scene—the vaunted Warrior of Light lying naked and unable to contain his amusement before his enemy and his very notable erection—only made it worse. He slapped his hand against the silken sheet, now ruined with bloodstains, and laughed until he couldn't breathe anymore.

“I don't recall telling a joke.“

“If this is what it sounds like when you're not joking,“ Sorkhatu gasped, “you should have been a jester. That you were able to say that with a straight face…“

A hint of a smile, barely visible in the dim magitek light, spread across Zenos' face. “Lesser men would not dare to take that tone with me, for fear of the consequences.“ 

“Many things I might be, but no lesser man. One day, we will meet on the battlefield again, and I intend to best you then.“ 

“And how I look forward to that day,“ Zenos breathed. He let go of Sorkhatu's thigh and moved forward until he hovered over him once more. Sorkhatu grabbed a long lock of hair falling from his shoulder and twirled it around his finger; another twirl and another, until it was stretched taut between Zenos' head and his hand.

“Must you waste my time like this? Do it properly.“ 

Sorkhatu smiled and yanked on the hair, pulling Zenos down on himself (though he had the distinct impression that Zenos allowed it; had he resisted, nothing of the sort would have happened). He breathed his scent in deeply and said: “Bring on your 'union of flesh', then, will you?“

Instead of complying, Zenos rolled over on his back and took Sorkhatu with him, so that he lay on his chest rather than under him. Strong fingers dug into his hips as he felt himself maneuvered around until Zenos' manhood pressed against his groin. 

“I see… so you would rather lay back and be pleasured than take an active part, is that it? Such a spoiled princeling you are, but I will do you the favour.“ Sorkhatu pushed himself up into a sitting position, making sure to rub himself against Zenos as much as possible, and then got up to his knees so he could position himself over him. Gods, but he was equipped impressively…

“I've half a mind to play further games with you,“ Sorkhatu said when the tip rested snugly against him, “but I'm frankly far too eager myself.“ Without any further words, he pushed himself down. Oh, such delicious girth, even with so little inside of him Zenos already spread him wide open, and there was still so much more to come. Ilm by ilm he was filled, stretched to his limits almost to the point of pain—blissful, wonderful pain.

Halfway through, Sorkhatu tried to stop to adjust before taking what remained but Zenos reached out and pulled him down at a torturously slow pace. He would not have been able to resist even if he had wanted to. There was no escaping Zenos' hands. Not here, not like this. The thought ought to be frightening, but in reality, being at his enemy's mercy was nothing short of exhilarating. 

By the time the final ilm slid inside, Sorkhatu gasped for breath. Even now, Zenos didn't allow him any time to rest. Immediately after bottoming out, he dragged him up again, nearly pulling out completely, and then harshly slammed him back down on himself.

Sorkhatu might have screamed. He wasn't sure, with his head swimming from so much arousal. Limply, he hung in Zenos' grasp as he filled him to the brim over and over again. He was going to go mad from this unbearably exquisite ordeal. The heat pooling in his abdomen, hard flesh sliding in and out—that look of delight on Zenos' face—Sorkhatu threw his head back and howled as pleasure flooded every ilm of his body.

When he slumped over, Zenos lifted him off and unceremoniously dumped him on the bed. The cool silk felt good against his flushed skin. He briefly closed his eyes and savoured the feeling, for as long as Zenos would let him…

...though Zenos did not make any moves to continue. Sorkhatu opened his eyes and turned over to see a truly impressive Garlean backside. Zenos appeared to be rummaging through his nightstand for some reason.

“Much as I enjoyed this, I have to ask: Do you not want to finish yourself?“ 

“I have something else for you in mind,“ Zenos purred. There was no better way to describe it. He purred. It was a nice sound. It was also a nice sight. His current position afforded Sorkhatu a prime view of his shapely cheeks. 

It also allowed him to reach out and cop a feel. Zenos made a pleased sound, and Sorkhatu had a sneaking suspicion he purposefully took longer than he needed to just to feel more of it. Who would have thought that the crown prince of Garlemald would enjoy being fondled?

No reason to deny him, however. 

Finally, however, Zenos pulled out a stately dildo attached to a harness. What material it was made of, Sorkhatu couldn't say. It didn't look much like rubber and it gleamed like cermet, but wasn't solid as metal the way cermet was. Amazing. Garlean ingenuity apparently extended even to pleasure toys. Which, having met Nero, was perhaps not as surprising as it should have been.

Sorkhatu took it from Zenos. It was smooth, cool to the touch and pliant. Zenos himself was slightly bigger still, but it would put to shame a great many Auri men. 

“Press the switch on the base.“

He did as he was told, and raised an eyebrow when it came to life with a soft hum and began vibrating. Simultaneously, its surface turned slick, eliminating the need for oils and the like. But of course it contained magitek; why wouldn't it? Mayhap Nero really had had a hand in constructing this. Sorkhatu had always suspected he and Cid spent their free time rather more intimate than they let on.

“So,“ he said, “you want me to strap this on and take you with it? To lay back and surrender yourself to me as I spread you wide open...“ 

The giddy look on Zenos' face—eyes wide open, lips stretching in a broad smile—was answer enough. 

“On your knees, then. What are you waiting for?“ 

Zenos moved in a flash—not into position, but closer to Sorkhatu, close enough to pull him into a deep, longing kiss, before drawing away just as quickly and getting down on his knees. Instead of propping himself up on his hands, he reached behind and spread his own cheeks apart. His face, meanwhile, rested on the pillow with the scorch marks. 

“So very eager to invite me in.“ Sorkhatu pulled the harness on and clipped the buckle shut. A few experimental tugs didn't dislodge the toy, and so he knelt down behind Zenos—

“You're too tall, you know that?“ Kneeling wasn't nearly enough for the toy to reach high enough. He would have to stand and crouch down awkwardly. His knees would raise hell over it, like as not, but that was a price he was willing to pay.

Zenos made a sound somewhere between frustration and need. “Must you tease me so? Get on with it!“

“Patience, princeling. I haven't even _begun_ teasing you yet.“ 

“I said—“

Sorkhatu slapped one of his cheeks, hard. The sound of skin on skin was almost unnaturally loud in the spacious room, as Zenos cut off without a further word. 

“The way I see it—“ Sorkhatu swatted the other cheek and smiled when Zenos jolted. “The way I see it, you've been acting like the spoiled royal you are all along, demanding that I do this and that, not letting me have my own pleasure… I'd say it's high time for you to lay down the reins and let me pick them up, don't you think? After all...“ He pressed a kiss to the slightly reddened skin. “I've already finished. What's to stop me from leaving you as you are?“ 

Zenos, rather than complaining any further, was silent for a moment and then broke into throaty laughter. “That's _it_ hero— _this_ is why I invited you! You treat me with such blatant disrespect, a complete disregard for who and what I am!“

“And you love every moment of it,“ Sorkhatu finished. What a strange person Zenos was. But then, that made two of them—he himself was the one sleeping with the man… “Now. Would you like me to take you?“

“Yes! Do it! Take me now, swift and without mercy!“ Zenos called out, with utter glee lacing his voice. 

“Then you had better ask nicely for it, princeling!“ Sorkhatu stood and maneuvered the toy into position, but let it rest against Zenos instead of pushing inside. “I want to hear you beg for it, and convincingly at that.“

There was a long pause, followed at last by a halting “...please?“

“Come now, aren't you supposed to be a prodigy? Surely you can beg better than that.“ Such a refreshing change, to see Zenos being the helpless one for once. Sorkhatu chuckled. “Here, I'll be nice and help you out, and I'm expecting a heartfelt thank you for it later. Tell me how much you want it.“

More silence. 

“You've never had to ask for anything, did you.“ 

“Not particularly, no.“

Sorkhatu shook his head. “I'm sorely tempted to say 'learn or suffer', but I'll be merciful and—“

“Have I not told you to be _merciless_ , hero? 'Tis begging you want, and so I will learn to beg until you are satisfied!“ Zenos took a deep breath and continued: “I beg of you, my beast! Bring me the pleasure I crave! Claim me! Make me yours! ...please!“

Sorkhatu couldn't help it. He broke out into laughter again. Never had he heard someone beg so enthusiastically. It was almost adorable. 

“Well,“ he said after regaining some of his composure, “you learned to say please. It's progress. I'll count it.“ 

“If it was not to your liking, I will—“

“Quiet now. You did your best, and you'll get your reward for it.“ Sorkhatu pushed forward; gently at first, and not enough to penetrate just yet, but it made Zenos trail off into a long exhale and tense up nonetheless. Gradually, he increased the pressure until the toy's vibrating tip slipped past the tight muscle. The lubricant coating its surface made it sink inside with ease, and the moan it wrenched from Zenos… oh, that moan. It came from deep in his chest, a low, rumbling sound that Sorkhatu could almost _feel_ from where they touched.

He wanted to hear it again. 

As he squeezed the supple flesh of Zenos' cheeks, he pushed further in, slowly, ilm by ilm, and was treated to the sight of Zenos desperately grasping at the sheets. His hair spilled over his shoulders as his breaths deepened and became gasps. Gold on red… such a beautiful combination.

“I want more, deeper… please!“

“You're getting better at it. Who knew all that was needed was taking a Garlean pleasure toy?“ Sorkhatu stopped and smiled at the desperate groan coming from Zenos. Seeing him like this, sweating, breathing harshly and so _needy_ was downright intoxicating. 

“Don't tease me like this…!“ 

“No?“ Sorkhatu slapped his cheek again. The resulting jolt caused the toy to sink in another half ilm. “But you obviously like it so much. What would you have me do, then?“ 

Zenos turned his head and looked at him over his shoulder. Stray locks of hair clung to his sweaty forehead, and the rest looked decidedly dishevelled. “I want you. All of you. Now!“

“What a coincidence. There's nothing I would rather do.“ Sorkhatu smiled. “But first: Turn around. I'll see your face while I do it.“

He withdrew, pulling the toy out of Zenos, and watched as he scrambled to lie on his back, then pull up his legs. How many people had been privy to this sight? Had anyone seen it before, or was he the first? What a priviledge that would be. 

Regardless, he had a crown prince to pleasure. 

The toy went in easier this time, and watching Zenos' mouth fall open and his eyes cloud with pleasure made it all the sweeter. Zenos' erection rubbed over Sorkhatu's stomach as he pushed further inside and then finally bottomed out. 

On a whim, Sorkhatu bent down and pressed a kiss to Zenos' chest. Zenos, in return, placed his hand on his neck and caressed it with his thumb. He pressed down too hard for it to be called tender, almost to the point of pain, but… coming from Zenos, it was a tender gesture nonetheless.

He straightened up again, pulled out about halfways and then pushed back in to the sound of Zenos sighing. Whatever lubricated the toy worked wonders. There was little friction, only a smooth gliding motion, in and out... in and out. 

Zenos seemed content with the slow movement, or at least he didn't urge him to go faster, but Sorkhatu gradually increased his pace anyroad. Zenos let go of his legs and wrapped his massive muscular thighs around his waist, leaving him free to run one hand through his hair and reach for his length with the other one.

“You want more than the toy?“ Sorkhatu asked, now a little breathless himself. “Allow me, then.“ 

He reached out with a frost-cold hand and wrapped it around Zenos at the same time he thrust the toy in all the way again. With a strangled cry, Zenos' entire body jerked up violently as he emptied himself all over his chest. The look on his face was a marvel. Eyes wide open and transfixed on Sorkhatu's face, drool dripping from the corner of his wide open mouth…

“You look beautiful,“ Sorkhatu told him.

“As do you, hero. As do you...“ Zenos relaxed from his tense posture and melted into the pillows. 

Sorkhatu pulled out, undid the buckles on the harness and tossed the toy aside without looking at it, then lay down next to Zenos, who immediately reached out and pulled him closer.

“I'll scratch you if you do that.“ Sorkhatu touched the tip of his right horn. They did occasionally make intimacy more challenging than it needed to be. 

Zenos cracked open an eye and looked at him. “I do not care. Should it happen, I will bear the scrapes with pride, for they are a mark of what we shared tonight...“

“Coming from you, that's almost romantic.“ 

“Romantic? Nay,“ Zenos said. “We are warriors, not courtiers. Tonight, we merely engaged in a different sort of dance. Come tomorrow, we will meet on the battlefield again, as it should be.“ He turned over to his side and wrapped his other arm around Sorkhatu as well, pulling him into a tight and warm embrace, heedless of the horns digging into his skin. “For now, however, I intend to enjoy your presence ere you leave again.“

He had the right of it, Sorkhatu thought as he closed his eyes and snuggled up against him. Very soon he would have to get up and leave, but in this fleeting moment, they could both forget about the Alliance, Ala Mhigo and the empire, and simply _be_.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated!


End file.
